


Same name, different drink.

by Faustitas_B



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Albert DaSilva lurks in the BG, Bisexual Jack Kelly, Coffee, Coffeeshop AU, F/F, F/M, Fake Names, Jack being Jack, M/M, Race is teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustitas_B/pseuds/Faustitas_B
Summary: Jack Kelly is a penniless college student who frequents a quiet café on the corner near his apartment. One day they get a new Barista.Jack has never been too good at telling the absolute truth. Little lies like this can't hurt, can they?





	Same name, different drink.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been uhming and ahhing about posting this for a while. My friends like it, so it can't hurt. I'll probably end up making this a series. Please leave comments and tell me what you think? Or else I probably won't have the motivation to continue.

__

“David, huh?” Jack peered almost theatrically closely at the name tag affixed to the apron of the barista.

The guy looked unimpressed,

"Yes. That's why it's on my nametag. At my workplace.”

The ginger server elbowed him not-so-discreetly as he stepped past to make a drink. The barista rolled his eyes.

 

“Y'know, funny story--” he began to try and weave together his story. He was getting better with practice and it worked. Okay, it worked  _ most _ of the time. Pretty good results from an ancient dare that had gotten out of hand.

 

“Look, am I getting a name or not?” the barista asked, clearly tired. You couldn't see it from this side of the counter, but Jack could just about hear the impatient tapping of his foot on the other side.

 

Jack gave a small outward smile, charming as it always was. Now was the time to execute his master plan-- it had never worked before but that was besides the point.

“Yeah! It's just, I--” he tapped his chest lightly,

“--also happen to be a David.

 

Race, who was in the line behind Jack and had been watching this agonising scene unfold, groaned and rolled his eyes. 

He huffed, looking away from the scene of inevitable awkwardness and instead over at the cute boy in the corner, who was glaring at a laptop screen like it had personally wronged him many years previously, and he had since spent a decade tracking it down, only to confront it and find it was not the true culprit.

 

Race glanced at his phone, concluding that it was probably the crappy free Wi-fi who was cute- leather-jacket-boy's true enemy. He looked back to the scene in front of him.

 

“Oh, good for you, I guess.” the barista said, a little brighter in tone than he had been, before scrawling the given name on the cup in looped handwriting and passing it down the line,

“Next.” 

 

Jack moved along, slightly annoyed that his plan hadn't worked.

Race came soon afterwards and elbowed Jack in the side,

“What was that?” He said with an air of fake disgust,

“You know that doesn't work, I told you six months ago when you started doing it. Besides you've already been caught and called out for it like- twice?- twice. It's dumb. You're dumb,  _ David _ .”

 

Race stuck his tongue out, grabbing both his and Jack's cups as the names were called and quickly overtaking Jack to lead the way to a table where he could look over Jack's shoulder at the cute boy with the laptop.

He unceremoniously flopped into the chair, plonking Jack's hot chocolate down onto the table as he did so.

 

“You're like the epitome of dumb and unoriginal. Also-- who comes to a coffee shop and  _ doesn't order coffee? _ Is it a crazy artist thing? Probably.”

 

Jack pulled an indignant face and waved him off,

“Coffee makes me jittery. Doesn't even taste all that great either so- shut up,  _ snob _ \- and it's gonna work someday!”

 

Race scoffed,

“Yeah, when pigs fly.” He sighed, taking a sip of his own coffee and momentarily recoiling at the heat before continuing.

 

“We're all broke, Jack, you're the only one who sees fit to try and get free stuff through the name thing. Just get a job where you get an employee discount or something-- or I don't know, fuck your way to free drinks.”

 

Jack looked insulted, glaring at Race and taking a small and judgemental sip from his hot chocolate.

“Okay, A) We both know it is  _ not _ easy to get a decent job. And B) fuck you.”

 

Race grinned, angling his head biting at his bottom lip in the way he knew absolutely disgusted Jack.

“You'd have to pay me first.” he spoke, breathily, attention fixed on a point beyond Jack's shoulder.

 

Jack stuck his tongue out,

“No. That's just weird. You know I see you as a bro--”

He tried to meet eyes with Race and realised his were elsewhere,

“--you're not even looking at me!” He turned in his seat to see where Race was looking,

“Oh, come on! It's three PM on a Monday you horny bastard. Plus, I think I know that guy.” he tried to place the face, finding it to be a maybe-probably-slightly-vague match to the guy he'd seen hovering around the library when he very rarely visited it.

 

Race grinned again, genuine this time,

“I want a name and number, gimme. I can pretend I got the wrong number and keep him talking.” 

 

Jack just sighed.

 

“Later. And his name is something really dumb--” he paused for a moment, 

“...I think. I don't think I have his number.” 

 

Race pouted and drummed his fingers on the table for a minute, then smiled and sat back in his seat,

“Love you, Jacky. Now, while we're on the topic--” Jack groaned, anticipating the end of the sentence,

“Let's talk about your love life.”

 

Jack sunk down further into his seat, holding his cup possessively and glaring at Race over the lid.

“That is not a good sentence starter. Last time you tried to set me up it went wrong  _ very _ quickly.”

 

Race blanched, bad memories,

“We do not speak of that.” He hissed back.

 

Jack was ignoring him however, glancing back to the boy manning the counter. He still looked tired and a little wound up, but now that he wasn't right in front of the guy he could see him properly without looking like a  _ complete _ creep.

From here, Jack could see the ghost of a smile on the boy's face.

 

Without realising it, he smiled in response, leading to Race- who had been rambling on about some girl who  _ totally wouldn't punch you if you asked her out _ \- stopping speaking in his tracks.

 

“Ooh. What's this? Jacky-boy being a hypocrite? Never thought I'd see the day.” He laughed,

 

“Good luck with that, he thinks you're called David, remember?”

 

Jack cursed under his breath,

“Damn my ingenious plans. Whatever. I can live with being David for the rest of my life for a guy that pretty.”

 

His eyes trailed over the boy--  _ David's- _ features, taking in everything from the slight curl in his short hair, to the slight pink of his cheeks and---  _ fuck. _

David looked up and made eye contact with Jack, Jack flushed red and quickly looked down to the cup he was now holding with a death grip.

 

“I rescind that statement. I'm gonna die, Race. I'm dead and the angel working in a coffee shop killed me. I'm never gonna be able to keep this up,  _ goddamn it he's so pretty. _ ”

 

Race flashed a charming smile over Jack's shoulder, completely ignoring his issue and got up from his seat, tucking it in behind him,

“Handle your own problems, Jack, I'm landing myself a date with laptop boy.”

 

Jack put his cup down and buried his head in his hands.

_ “Fuck”,  _ he thought.

_ “I'm never gonna be able to come in here again-- which is a damn shame. They make good coffee. And their Baristas are so pretty.”  _

He caught himself and audibly groaned,

“Fuuuck.” The word was drawn out and pained.

Race laughed and patted Jack's head lightly on his way past.

“You'll figure something out.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Race is a horny little shit who takes great pride in being the worst wingman the world has to offer.  
> Yes, laptop boy is Spot. I'm debating whether he's an English student or law student. He probably models for life drawing for money Sometimes.  
> Albert and Race have probably dated before and decided they're better off as friends. Albert is ginger boy behind the counter, reminding Davey to do his job and stop giving cheek/ the time of day to idiots like Jack.


End file.
